8 Personal Stories of Heroin Addiction
One of the most stunning things about recovery is the similarities between your story of addiction and that of the next addict. Heroin addiction, especially, seems to provide its captives with a gut wrenching path from which few escape. Though the details—location, names, amounts, dates—change with each story, one thread remains the same: heroin addiction is deadly. The only hope is heroin rehab.
- Dead Heroin Addict’s Video Diaries to be Aired in Sky1 Documentary – This one is at The Guardian (United Kingdom) and it’s a bit exploitative, I think, and it’s a heartbreaker so be forewarned.
- Snellville Woman’s Tale of Heroin Addiction – Here, a woman from Snellville tells the story of a local woman struggling with heroin addiction on her blog, My Snellville Blog.
- Heroin Tightens Its Grip – From Creative Loafing Atlanta out of Atlanta, GA, this is a broader article that talks more about Sarah, the woman profiled at My Snellville Blog.
- I Kicked My Habit After Heroin Addiction Killed My Twin…Now I’m Going to Be a Dad – Exactly what it sounds like, this is a personal story of recovery out of the UK after loss due to heroin addiction.
- Heroin Took Life of Bright Teen From Mukilteo – A sad story, this one is about the loss of Everett, Washington teen, Sean Gahagan, to heroin abuse.
- Speaker Tells Students About Daughter’s Drug Related Death – Out of Greencastle, Indiana, a story of teenage death caused by drug abuse. Her father speaks out to help educate students in hopes of keeping them form the same fate.
- How HIV Changed Ex-Addict’s Life – A story of recovery in the Middle East, this one highlights what it was that helped one heroin addict take the leap and break his addiction to heroin for good.
- The Teenage Face of Heroin Abuse: Sean O’Conner, 19 – U.S. News and World Report tells the story of one teen who stopped in time.
Heroin Rehab Works
In the words of Sean O’Conner, heroin rehab can help treat heroin addiction:
When I was stealing from my aunt and uncle and stealing from my neighbors, I was in a really bad place. Anything lying around and worth money—I took it. The night I overdosed, I was at my friend’s birthday party, and I got really drunk because I was waiting to get heroin and it wasn’t there yet. When my neighbor got some, I got a ride from the party to his house. I don’t really remember this, but from what people told me, after I shot up, I started freaking out [having seizures], and my neighbor propped me up against a tree, went back inside, and just left me there. Thankfully, another neighbor saw me outside and called the cops. The next thing I remember is waking up in the ambulance after they gave me the Narcan shot. They told me I had been having seizures and that I almost choked on my tongue.
After I relapsed, my mom said, “Go and get better or you’re done, no more family.” My first few days here I said, “F— this place, I’m leaving. I would rather sit in county [jail] for six to eight months.” Then one night I realized all the positive things about this place. I can get my high school diploma. I can get my family back. By the time I’m out, my probation will be over, I’ll have a large amount of clean time, and I’ll have more tools and coping skills to use when I’m back out in the world.
I’ve only been here 14 days today, but I’ve realized this is the place where I have to be, and it helps. Seeing people actually be here for seven, eight months helps. If they can do it, I can do it too.
By Wendy Lee Nentwig